


I Am Your Fall

by mystic_hyacinth



Series: Adoration, Exploration, Absolution [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gender Dysphoria, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Prequel, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a good boyfriend, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Vaginal Fingering, Vanilla, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24555529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth
Summary: It's a compulsion that pushes them together - a sly brush of the hand, a lingering stare - all preambles before they fall too far into one another.Prequel to 'Told Me You Were Doing Fine'
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Adoration, Exploration, Absolution [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885900
Comments: 2
Kudos: 123





	I Am Your Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys are having a good summer! I had a request put in for this God knows how long ago by vivicrazy7 on tumblr who asked me:
> 
> "Your 'told me you were doing fine story was lovely. Can u do a flashback of their first time and then a time skip of their actual first time? I wanna know how they became to be. Peter's age wasn't stated but I know he's underaged bc they were keeping it hidden. Can u do their first time while he's still underaged? (U don't have to do it!)"
> 
> Thanks so much for the imput! There will be a third part to this story but all of them can be read as standalone fics - the original 'Told Me You Were Doing Fine' story is still up to go read as well. With all that being said - enjoy!
> 
> Title is taken from 'Persephone' by Tamino.

No matter how minor the project was, Peter always found the need to celebrate every one that they’d completed together. A minor update to one of their suits meant root beer floats, patching some extra wonky code was cause for a feast of sushi and whatever chocolate-covered delicacy Peter could manage to rustle up only with what Tony had in his kitchen. Of course, there was never any liquor but Tony would allow it - content to just watch the boy bustle about as he made enough food for twelve. 

Tony remembered telling Peter a long time ago that the constant celebrations might only cheapen the completion of each project, but he slowly let himself relax into the idea of late-night ice cream runs and pancreas-stopping breakfasts made after crueling all-nighters. It was custom to them after so many months of working together. Rewards bred morale, morale bred efficiency, efficiency bred completion and completion bred more rewards. 

A vicious cycle, but one Tony could accept - the boy took too much after him for him not to. He lived for those blissful smiles that came from Peter after he’d finished the sighs of relief after he’d managed to grab the fire extinguisher right before things could get too haywire in the workshop. He could subsist off the way Peter’s tongue stuck out and his brow furrowed the deeper in his concentration he became. All of the boy was a picture - revealing something different with every viewing.

It was Peter’s idea to head back to his place that night. May would be out on a hot date and probably not due back till morning and he’d had something special planned after they’d finished completely updating Peter’s new suit, though the thing would have to wait overnight to fully install. Tony had made a snide remark about May being a little salty about Peter’s frequent sleepless nights spent in Tony’s workshop (followed by the days he slept on Tony’s couch). Peter denied any accusations, simply saying that he had something special planned and that Tony could use a change of scenery far away from the castle in the sky he called a penthouse.

As always, Tony relented for the boy and by three in the morning they were in Queens - stepping out of Tony’s car into the steamy summer air with Peter completely skipping the elevator in favor of bounding up all six flights of stairs to his apartment.

Tony could only smile to himself, trudging up behind him. He asked if the elevator was broken, only to receive a breathy no and a sharp urging for him to hurry as though whatever Peter had to show him was going to self-destruct any minute now. 

Tony rolled his eyes and followed, part of him feeling bad for the neighbors that could no doubt hear Peter charging up the stairs at such an ungodly hour.   
  
Tony caught up with Peter just in time to watch the boy disappear into his apartment and Tony was drawn in by the faint smell wafting from the inside. Stepping in, he watched as Peter flickered on the lights in the kitchen. 

The spread that was laid out in front of them was simple, but Tony had to be impressed with the sheer quantity and presentation of the stuff. There was pork chops deep fried and slathered in some sweet-smelling sauce, sauteed veggies simmering in a buttery pan and dotted with herbs and spices. Fat yeast rolls were glistening in the low lights and piled high onto serving plates and a steaming pan of mac and cheese sat, dusted with bread crumbs. 

“There’s cake in the fridge.” Peter said. “Didn’t know if we’d have enough to so I scrapped that together just in case.” 

“The boy makes enough food to feed a battalion and yet there’s still cake in the fridge.” he laughed, looking at the spread in front of him as though it would disappear as soon as he sat down. 

“You’re a guest, I...I didn’t want to disappoint you. I figured I’d save some money and cook.”

“You realize you had to spend money to buy all this stuff, right?”

Peter’s cheeks flared before he damn near shoved a yeast roll in Tony’s face. “Here, eat one of these.”

Okay, so the yeast rolls were pretty damn good. A little heavy on the butter, but good. 

“May helped you make all of this?” he asked, sitting down helping himself to the pork roast. 

Peter shook his head, going for the mac and cheese. “Not really, some of the recipes are hers but I put my own little spin on them.”

“Does she know who you made it for?” Tony asked, trying to melt with how good the food was - who would have guessed the little brat could throw down in the kitchen like this?

“I mean, we’re trying to alternate cooking weeks now that she’s picked up some different hours at the office, so this was just my week to work.”

Tony smirked. “You sure that was all? You usually make this much food when it's just the two of you?”

Peter could only blush and stuff his face, but Tony already had an answer.

The dinner (breakfast? It was technically morning already) went on with a healthy amount of chatter and compliments to the chef. They didn’t talk shop much, Tony simply preferring to listen to Peter go on about his friends and the life he led when Tony wasn’t there to admire it. The kid was that much like a magnet and Tony was hopelessly lost to his pull.

Once they’d cleared away most of the yeast rolls and decimated the pork roast - Peter was the first to get out of his seat and start collecting plates. 

“I’m gonna go get changed really quickly and come back to help clean up. I don’t want this place to be a wreck when May comes back.”

Tony’s brows quirked and he shook his head. “What you need is a good shower. I’ll worry about the clean up.”

Peter shook his head. “You’re the guest, Mr. Stark. I’m not gonna make you do anything while you’re under my roof.”

“Didn’t know you paid rent around here.” Tony deadpanned.

Peter could only blush. “I mean, it’s still more my roof than it is yours - and Aunt May likes the dishes put back a certain way or else she gets all bent out of shape about it.”

“Well,” Tony said, getting out of his seat and stacking Peter’s dishes on top of his. “I’ll take my chances. You go get yourself cleaned up.”

Peter smiled as he stood and went to make his way towards the bathroom. “Thanks for sticking around Tony, it means a lot.” his voice was low, eyes downcast - as if in gratitude he wasn’t worthy of looking Tony in the eye.

“Head up, kid.” Tony said and he finally caught sight of those eyes again. He had to fight not to just grab him right there. “It’s the least I can do, you think I could cook all this myself?”

“You pay people to do it for you.” he smiled. “How about after I come back from the shower I put everything away?”

“Nice try, but I’ll take care of it. Scram.” there wasn’t a hint of discontent in his voice as he said it and he managed to catch a glimpse of Peter’s smile - feel the linger of the kid’s eyes on him even though his back was turned. “There’s tin foil and stuff in the cabinet under the sink, just wrap the big serving plates and put them in the fridge. Leave out the yeast rolls though, okay?”

“Yes, dear.” Tony said, questioning whether the statement even had a hint of irony in it. 

The atmosphere was so different from that of the workshop. The low, yellowish glow of dimmers overhead as opposite to the sterile, bluish tint that the lights of the workshop had. He could hear cars passing below, upstairs neighbors pounding about, the distant bark of a dog and the rattling of a passing train - an entire world existed here, whereas at Tony’s place they were high enough off the ground that the city was silent beneath them with the only sounds from outside being the updraft. The floors still creaked and every so often the faucet would sputter but it felt real here - as though this glimpse into his protege’s life was the gateway to some type of intimacy he denied himself to ever have.

The sputter of the faucet shocked him out of his thoughts again and he went back to scrubbing.

///

“Heading to bed, then?” Tony asked not too long after Peter had returned from the shower. His hair was still damp and his oversized t shirt was just big enough to make it look as though he wasn't wearing pants. Tony hoped Peter didn't notice his stare. 

Peter hesitated as though him having worked an eight hour shift in Tony’s workshop, eaten a heavy dinner, showered and dressed in his pajamas had no correlation with going to bed whatsoever. “I might be. Are you heading home?”

Tony didn’t miss the pleading undertone in the boy’s voice. “I mean, I got nowhere to be tomorrow. I could linger around here if you want me to.”

Though the kid tried to cover up the flicker of brightness in his face as Tony’s words, the man managed to catch it before it evaporated - almost as though it was a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, sure. We can hang out in my room, just make sure you leave a light on out here. May doesn’t like it when the house is completely dark, says it makes it look like it’s okay to rob us.”

“You live on the sixth floor.”

“People have ladders, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony couldn’t stifle the laugh that came from him before he turned on the dimmers again and went to follow the kid back towards his room.

Fuck, _his_ room. Why was he acting like that was so weird? Of course Peter had a room and Tony had seen it, the place having served as the main background to the Skype calls. Yet, here Tony was - acting as though he was going to be instantly incinerated as soon as he stepped onto the worn carpet.

If Peter noticed his momentary pause by the door, he didn’t say anything - simply turning on the desk lamp and plopping himself on the bed and going to grab his phone - as if intent on keeping his gaze off Tony. The older man took off his shoes by the door and chose to sit at the boy’s desk chair. The distance was safe and at least now he could admire him fully - the soft glow of the lamp turning his skin nearly rosy and not giving Tony a moment's rest as he looked on.

The boy was heaven, despite his worldly surroundings. It was as though Tony pulled him off the clouds himself. 

“Who’re you texting?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Ned’s gotten in a fight with some dude on Twitter, wanted to send me the evidence.”

“Is he winning?”

“Nobody wins on Twitter, we both know this.”

“Alright cool it, Wednesday.”

Peter smiled and went back to looking at his phone, typing in a few more words before setting it on the window sill. “So, we’re still hanging out - yeah?” 

Tony nodded, “Yeah, we’re still hanging out. You know people usually talk and stuff when they do that.”

Peter rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, what do you wanna talk about?”

“You seem to be doing really well with the hormones." he said, a desperate attempt at trying to pick a conversation that would guarantee him getting to see Peter smile.

As predicted, the boy was beaming. “Yeah, it’s been pretty nice. My skin gets pretty oily and I’m starting to get a lot of hair everywhere - which is weird.”

Tony made a show of looking over the boy’s face as if expecting a huge beard to manifest on his chin. Peter blushed and shied away. “It’s nowhere you can see, Mr. Stark.”

It didn’t take much to understand where Peter was referencing, but Tony silently prayed for that confirmation. Even better, he wanted to see just how many changes had occurred with the boy’s body. Have him point out every bit of him that had been altered - but what would Tony even be comparing it to? He’d hardly ever seen the boy shirtless, much less gotten to know any parts of him that didn’t have as much hair as before as they did now.

“Yeah, though I guess the hormones are only gonna make that teenage funk worse. Good thing you shower, you're gonna need to do it ten times more now." 

“You're saying I always reeked?” Peter asked, not sounding hurt by it at all.

“Total slimeball.”

Peter laughed, leaning against the wall. “Being gross is gender affirming.”

Tony rolled his eyes and swiveled a bit in the boy’s chair. “Nobody ever said you were gross, Peter. I’m kinda happy you’ve gotten this far, makes me proud of you.”

The man watched as Peter’s hands folded in on each other and how he looked away from him. “It’s just some shots, nothing to be proud of me for.”

Tony rolled the chair over so Peter was in arms’ reach of him but he dared not touch. He didn’t miss the way Peter’s breath hitched or his eyes widened and how he fought to steady himself.

“Yeah but I saw how all that dysphoria and stuff was beating you down, you’ve done really well for yourself, Pete. You talk to your aunt about surgery yet?”

“She said after I get out of high school, she wants me to focus on that for right now.” Peter shrugged. “I’m not upset at her but sometimes it feels like it can’t come soon enough. I know I’ll be okay though.”

Tony smiled, “You will be, I’ll make sure of it. You’re doing so well.”

Peter was practically preening at the praise Tony was giving him and the man had barely noticed when his hand had found a way to rest against the kid’s knee - almost as though it came naturally to him. Peter didn’t tell him to move it, but he could feel the kid's skin heating up against it. Tony looked up and attempted to apologize, moving his hand away but Peter stopped him - squeezing it.

“Thanks for everything. It’s um...it’s really good to have you here.”

Tony was damn near breathless, only mustering an: “Of course, Pete. It’s the least I could do, you deserve it.”

The absolute least he could do was let go of this fantasy, let go of Peter and shut him out of his head. The least he could do was shake the boy’s hand off of his.

He didn’t - higher functioning be damned. Peter had all the side effects of fine liquor and probably tasted just as good.

He leaned closer and Peter didn’t stop him, the only noise in the room being the muffled roll of chair against the carpet. Tony’s hand squeezed harder and Peter’s thigh and he looked up at him, as if to tell him that if he wanted to stop - now was a good time to say something.

Peter was silent, eyes wide and entreating as ever.

Tony kissed him and it was like the first hit of a long, painful addiction. 

The kiss was heated, though Tony was careful not to fully overwhelm the boy with too much tongue. Peter pulled him closer, scrawny arms came to rest around his neck even as his mouth could only clumsily mimic Tony’s actions. 

Tony pulled away for a split second, getting out of the chair and sliding onto the bed. However, he saw Peter, flushed and breathless - looking over at him as though he couldn’t get enough.

They were alike in that way, restless and insatiable.

After a short moment, Peter’s kisses began to turn feverish - as though Tony being patient and gentle would never be enough to truly satisfy him. Tony dared not wreck him now, this - whatever it was - played out well enough, he would simply wait til Peter was ready. 

However long that took, if it happened at all.

Tony had laid the boy down and once he needed another moment to breathe, pulled off the boy in favor of sucking and kissing at his neck. Peter moaned, his and knotting in the man’s hair in an attempt to hold him in place. Tony was careful not to suck or bite too hard, despite how much he wanted the boy to be properly marked. He needed to be slow, allow Peter time to adjust - he could wait a little longer if it meant making sure Peter was comfortable.

Slowly, his other hand snaked up Peter’s side, ghosting over Peter’s skin and sending a tremor through him. His thumb jutted out as he went, barely tracing the curve of the ribs underneath the boy’s chest.

“Is this still too much?”

Peter looked at him for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, um...I don’t want you to touch that part, not yet.” he said and they both needed a second to fully process those words.

The possibility for more, Peter had just confirmed it.

Tony could only smile and nod, “Alright, I’ll leave it alone. Show me what you want me to do.”

Peter’s eyes seemed to shimmer at that and he took Tony’s hand, guiding it down towards the soaked spot in his boxers. “Here is fine, you can touch here.”

Tony didn’t hesitate, curling his fingers around through the fabric and gauging Peter’s reaction. The boy gave breathy little moans, hips finger downwards to meet his fingers. Peter clung tightly to him, trying his best to grind down and receive whatever attention Tony was willing to give.

Tony didn’t ignore the straining of his pants either and used the hand that wasn’t driving Peter insane to at least slide down his jeans a little bit. He hoped Peter could get a glimpse of just how hard he was making him and how badly Tony wanted him.

He would be patient, take it slow - just as he was down right now as he crooked his fingers against Peter’s cock through the fabric. He watched as the boy cried out and silently thanked whoever was listening that May wasn’t here. 

  
“Can I take these off?” he asked.

“Please.” said Peter, voice already wrecked. 

The man didn’t need more permission than that, watching as Peter lifted his hips and allowed him to slip the boy out of his boxers. He kissed him, starting at his stomach and making his way down until the stubble of his beard connected with the wet hair beneath him.

It was then that Tony needed a minute to take it all in. The sight of the boy trembling beneath him, his thick patch of hair only slightly musty after his shower. His eyes were drawn to his enlarged clit, standing prominently amidst the dark, damp curls that surrounded it.

“Guessing this started growing once you started hormones?” Tony asked, circling his finger around the edges of it and watching as Peter kicked and squirmed.

“Yeah, it’s gotten pretty big - really um...sensitive too.” he gargled, his eyes narrowed to slits as he stared down at Tony. “Anything brushes up against it and I get all excited.”

“That so?’” Tony said, feigning coyness. “I guess I’ll have to prove that for myself - never been the type to take other people’s words for it.” he kept circling the boy’s clit, gauging his reaction as his lips began to descend towards it.

Even through his narrowed vision he could see what Tony was doing and his body instantly tensed with anticipation. “You don’t have to do that for me, Mr. Stark. I - I’ve never…”

“What did I say about you deserving it, Peter?” he whispered. “Relax, let me handle it. Trust me, I’ve sucked worse things in my day.”

The joke was enough distraction for Peter that Tony could fully make his move towards the boy’s clit. Taking it in his mouth for the first time was enough to make Peter lift to meet his tongue as if thanking him for his support. Tony did his best not to smile around the boy’s cunt, lest his lose his good grip on it. Instead he took to kissing it, slowly. A mismatched pattern of feathery mouthings over the boy’s clit to a sloppy tongue trailing all over his folds - hardly leaving a place left unturned. 

Peter was defenseless to the pleasure, his body rolling around on the bed as he yielded all his control to Tony. His fingers became unfastened from the sheets and reached for Tony's hair, keeping a vice grip on it as he ground down.

Tony would allow it if it meant hearing more of Peter.

“M-Mr. Stark,” the boy whispered, brow furrowing as he ground down on the man’s face. Tony didn’t mind much, if nobody had done this to the kid before it wasn’t right for him to tease him or try to restrict his pleasure in any way. Control and discipline would come later, for now, pleasure would come to him at his own pace.

Later, he told himself - he already knew that if Peter would let him, there would always be more to come back to. That promise that there would always be more of this perfect, gorgeous boy was enough to keep him licking and sucking - the sounds of Peter’s moans and gasps like music to him.

"Please, please." The boy whispered, voice cut through the heavy moans.

Tony looked up at him, "Use your words, honey."

The title sounded so sweet and soft Peter could only keen, abandoning his words in favor of simply grinding against Tony's face, a silent plea for him to continue.

Tony told the cue and kept sucking, taking him Peter's salty, hot taste. In his throes of serving Peter like this he'd taken to rutting against the bed, letting a bit of his own self control slip in favor of looking like a horny teenager.

Well, at least it fit the mood.

Tony kept sucking, Peter's body buckling in on itself as he went on torturing him. His voice was ticking up and the movements of his hips had somehow gotten more sloppy and frantic. Tony intended to bring him to completion no matter how quick, if it hadn't been for Peter who stopped him before he could go completely nonverbal.

“Wait, I um...I have an idea.” Peter said. “We can um - try something. I think you’ll really like it.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, both curious and amused as he sat back a little.

“Maybe you could like, grind in between my thighs or something. I don’t think I’m really ready to like - do full penetration just yet but I think that I could handle it if you just did that.”

Tony nodded and slowly slipped himself out of his boxers, watching as Peter (literally) sized him up. “Too much?”

“Just enough.” Peter breathed, licking his lips and spreading his legs a little wider to accommodate the man. “I can take it, I’m ready.”

“I know you are, honey.” he whispered, leaning down to capture the boy’s lips as he slotted himself between his thighs.

It took a moment to find an angle that felt could and wouldn’t stress out Tony’s back so much, but once they got it Peter was a moaning, squealing mess - arching up into Tony as his clit was steamrolled by the older man. Tony wasn’t much better off, groaning as Peter rolled himself against him.

“How is it, honey? Does it feel good?” Tony asked. Peter could only moan in response, bucking up against him and pulling Tony impossibly closer as the rutting continued. “You’re so thick, Tony, fuck…” he whispered.

Tony’s teeth brushed over the shell of Peter’s ear. “All of it’s for you, sweet thing. You made me like this.” 

Peter groaned, unsure if it was from the sensation of being ground against or the words that Tony was purring out to him. His body felt he could only handle so many sensations before it crumbled entirely.

“Tony, Tony, f-fuck...Tony.” he chanted, burying his face in the mans neck as his moans got louder. Tony could only take it in, groaning at the lewd sounds his cock made as it slid around Peter’s wetness. He could only imagine how tight the boy must be, how if he were inside him right now if his hole would suck him in, accept him just as Peter himself had done a thousand times over. 

“You look so gorgeous, Pete.” Tony said, “I could look at you forever.”

“D-don’t say things like that.” he whispered, voice cracking with the force of his pleasure.

“What? The truth?” cooed Tony, slowing his movements to a painful grind. “That you’re perfect, that you’re gorgeous - that you’re mine?” 

Peter could only cry out, wiggling his hips in an attempt to beckon Tony to go harder, to not lead on his already hard cock. He kept grinding down, the sweat made his tee shirt stick to him as he lifted himself up. 

“Need it, need you - **_please_**.” 

“Need me to do what, baby?”

“Let me cum, please. You’re too good at this.” he whimpered and Tony was gone. He made sure to make his thrusts go a little higher above the boys cunt so that when he inevitably came he wouldn’t be firing off where he didn’t need to be right now.

Maybe later, he told himself. Right now he had to see to it that he finished what he started. 

Peter came with a muffled whine against Tony’s neck, body shaking and even from the outside Tony could feel as the boy clenched and tensed, could feel as his wetness began to leak onto the sheets and as his clit twitched with the force of it all. He made sure to open his eyes to watch as Peter's mouth fell open, eyes closed and his skin flushed an even softer, sweeter shade of pink as he rode out his orgasm.

Tony kept rutting, although a little slower so as to not overstimulate his young love, instead just trying the hardest he could to keep his cum on him, not in him.

“You did perfect, Pete.” he whispered. “You’re perfect, you know that? So fucking perfect.”

Maybe it was the way Peter’s legs locked around him or the sight of Peter’s post-coital smile that sent him over the edge, delirious with devotion for the tiny brunette beneath him. 

“Thank you…” Peter whispered, kissing him such addictive things those lips were, Tony knew he would never be right again. 

The older man was the first to come back to his senses after several quiet moments, allowing Peter to take deep breaths as he kissed him through the aftershocks. “You’re alright, you’re with me. Everything’s okay.” Tony whispered, running his hands through his hair. “You did so well, Pete. You need anything?”

The boy shook his head but Tony kissed him again before getting up to go grab his still-wet towel from the back of the door and cleaning off the boy’s midsection. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved the mess.” he said, smiling and trying to sit up. “I really liked this, I’d want to um...do it again, if it’s all good with you.”

“I was more worried about it being all good with you.” Tony smiled, kissing him as Peter took the towel out of his hand and dumped it on the floor.

“You’re a slob.” Tony whispered.

“It’s a boy thing.”

They both laughed and Tony looked down at him, all shimmering eyes and flushed cheeks, happy that there was a true possibility that despite all the fawning and yearning, this could be his. 

“How long did you feel this way, Pete?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, I get if this was just a spur of the moment thing.”

Peter shook his head, though it took him some time to place the words together. “I...I think I always felt something but I didn’t think it could be real, that I could have something like this that was actually like - tangible. I thought I could just live with it all being in my head.” he sighed. “I think after I came out to you and you were so supportive and nice to me is when I fell hard. No hope escaping it after that.” he smiled, looking over at Tony and leaning into the crook of his arm. “When did you know?”

“Forever - but I didn’t know how to tell you.” he said. “Didn’t want to drag you down with me, didn’t want to force you into anything.”

“I don’t feel forced.” Peter whispered. “Don’t feel dragged either.”

“Then how do you feel, about all this?”

“Like it worked out. Like good things are going to happen.” 

Tony’s heart hammered as he kissed the boy again. Silence befell them for a few minutes before the teen piped up again. 

“You should go.” he said, gesturing to the clock on his desk. “Its going on five and May usually makes it back by dawn. I’m guessing you don’t want to get interrogated by her.”

Tony chuckled. “I’ll take my chances with the warden if I run into her, don’t worry.” he said, pulling up his pants and standing up. 

“We could do this again sometime, if you’d want to.” he said, stepping over Tony and going towards the kitchen once more. “Here! Take some cake with you, it’s really good!”

Tony could only laugh as he pulled on his shoes and walked out to see Peter fussing over some saran wrap and a thick, dark, icing-covered chunk of something in the fridge. “Think this will be enough?” he asked, holding up a slice that might as well have been half the cake itself.

“More than enough, thanks.” he said, taking the cake out of the kid’s hands and watching as he beamed. 

Tony smirked, “If you want to make this part of our little celebrations then be my guest.” he murmured before Peter went to unlock the door. 

“I could get around doing that, wouldn’t mind some orange chicken and then getting eaten out like that again.” said the teen.

Tony laughed and gave him one last feathery kiss. “See you same time next week, then?”

Peter smiled and nodded, “I love you too.” he called after him.

Something warm flooded Tony and he took one last look back at the boy before opening the door to the stairwell. 

“Love you too.” 


End file.
